The COVID: Total Madness

By: Ali Benz

This is not a drill. The rules of COVID apply. Play carefully. You are now living in an alternate reality. Nothing is the same and you will survive only if you follow the rules. This is season of the Rona, and you are Player One. Mask on, six feet, never touch your face. Play at your own risk.

You are automatically in the game so it’s time to isolate and adapt. Great time to be a nun, horrible time to be a swinger. A guy literally sent me his Corona test results to get me to hangout. Huge red flag but also is this the new equivalent to STD tests? Proving you’re clean? Thanks, buddy, I’m glad you’re negative for COVID but I’m sure you’re positive for something else. Anyone trying to hookup in these conditions is clearly unwell. Hate to break it to you but you’re not meeting your wife on Tinder today. Stay home.

I know, easier said than done. It’s nearly impossible to stay locked up with your family or roommates. I got in a fight with my dad last night because the avocados weren’t organic. We’re currently still not speaking. I know I overreacted but I fought so hard for those avocados it would be too awkward to back down now. We’ll probably speak once he catches me watching reality TV again and threatens to cancel the cable. Or worse, catches me making a Tik Tok, which is essentially just slutty sign-language. The deaf community should come for Addison Rae.

It would really suck to lose TV considering how many great shows are out right now. Listen to Your Heart? Oscar-worthy. The Challenge? Tear-jerker. So great to see TJ Lavin is still employed and I’m not. Do reality TV stars collect unemployment? I’ve been trying to collect mine for weeks and still can’t get in touch with the New York Government. Andrew Cuomo is too busy being cute AF to call me back. I get playing hard to get but like I need my money, Drew.

Not sure why they make it so hard to get paid. I just want enough money to buy a trendy face mask from a local rather than getting scammed by hippies on Etsy. I should’ve known ten masks for five dollars from someone named “Wild Flower” in New Zealand was too good to be true. That wasn’t my best move but at least I’m not taking shots of Lysol to stay pure. I actually love the mask look—super theft-chic and the narrow design does wonders for my jawline. My only complaint is the subtle mask-tan and some minor chin acne.

To be honest, I’m not ready for the Q to end. Don’t kill me for saying this, but I find it quite relaxing and I’m super busy. I don’t know where the time goes. It’s amazing we are living through a pandemic, and although it’s scary and your life is actually tragic, things will get better. For now, enjoy the time to yourself and the time at home. Give yourself a break. And remember, liquor stores are considered “essential” so there’s really no reason to complain.

 

The Most Dramatic Season Ever

By: Ali Benz

The blog is back by popular demand. Shout-out to my three (sometimes four) super-fans that keep me grounded. Has the fame changed me? Yeah, a little bit, but getting six likes/comments from followers in Argentina will do that to a girl. You wouldn’t get it. Anyway, this is a holiday blog (I just decided) so get festive b*tchez.

How do I feel about Hanukkah, you (no one) asked? Hanukkah is super dramatic. Eight days? Why? Relax big fella we could wrap this whole thing up in one but you need a week and a day. I know I’m kind of a hypocrite because I’ve been celebrating my birthday since July, but that holiday revolves solely around me so it’s like way less stressful.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m down to get as lit as the menorah and gamble my Bat-Mitzvah savings away on the dreidel, but this year I just wasn’t ready. Why did Hanukkah have to make a dramatic entrance on December 2nd? I legit still have stuffing in my fridge and a few more costume parties to attend. Welcome to Halloweentown. That might be a personal issue, but seriously who doesn’t enjoy a nice Christmas/Hanukkah collab? Now all I can do is hope one of my random Catholic friends invites me to their ham dinner or whatever. I don’t want to spend the afternoon with that mall Santa again— Although he does have some dank weed.

I don’t smoke, but that man must be high as a chimney to jump down…. all those chimneys? Sorry, I’m Jewish I don’t know how these things work. I have Amazon Prime though so I’m not too worried. I can order six Kylie Lip Kits and have them here by Friday without feeling obligated to prepare a midnight snack for the delivery guy. My house is gluten and dairy-free anyway so that thicc St. Nick probably wouldn’t even enjoy my spread. Tragic.

Also, we need to talk about gift etiquette. Wrapping paper and holiday cards are extremely dramatic. Eight dollars for a sparkly card with some BS haiku about winter? Thank u, next. You can miss me with that one. That’s why I have mad respect for my grandma. Homegirl wraps our presents in tin foil, throws down some fire lyrics on scrap paper, and calls it a day. Now that’s what I call Christmas: Volume 4.

The only one who hustles harder is Mr. Claus himself. He literally works one night a year and has “travel blogger” in his bio, right after ~wanderlust~. The man is clearly a trust fund baby with the work ethic of a millennial. How old is he anyway? I wouldn’t be surprised if big Nick was giving out promo codes for Fit Tea. After all, he did tell me he lives in the North Pole but summers in the Hamptons. At least his sleigh is cleaner and greener than the Jitney, but would it kill him to throw down on a table at Gurney’s once in a while?

I know I sound like the Grinch or something, but I’m not. TBH I love this sh*t. I’m wearing a Santa hat and pounding Manischewitz as we speak. I’ve been listening to the Justin Bieber Christmas album since November and I’m not apologizing for it. The truth is, holidays are overwhelming. Your family is insane and you have to see your weird uncle but it’s all good ‘cause, like, presents. Duh. So, go ahead, send that annoying holiday postcard that your mom signs ‘Love, the Bennett’s & Boe!’ as if your dog was the mastermind behind the photo and not a victim to your dramatic tradition. Buy your boring co-worker that stupid snow globe for secret Santa. Hook-up with your Rabbi’s first-born son. Get it all in while you can, because come January, we’re starting all over again and what a disaster that will be. Happy holidays!

Taylor Swift is Kind of a Big Deal

By: Ali Benz

There is no tougher security in the world than the ladies of the JCC front desk. I have literally snuck into clubs by telling bouncers I was already inside, but these women at the J are relentless. I could’ve known some of them since birth and they still wouldn’t let me in without ID. I’d have a better chance sneaking a guy into 1Oak by saying he’s my gay cousin.

Men are so quick to shame women of power because they’re intimidated. They troll them for being unladylike when they are fierce, brilliant, and courageous. No matter the position, women need to continue to stand their ground and fight, not letting misogynistic labels fear us into weakness. That’s why Irene at the Jewish Community Center is my hero, no matter how many times she kicks me out. Apparently, you need an actual membership, not proof of Bat-Mitzvah.

Whether you’re a female CEO, athlete, drug-dealer, whatever; you deserve equal rights. Growing up in a family of therapists was a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because I was able to learn empathy. My siblings and I were encouraged to pursue our dreams, regardless of gender barriers—though I do wish someone stopped me from wearing basketball jerseys in every school picture. It was a curse because I was constantly being analyzed. If I was crying, my mom would always hit me with the “what’s this really about” line. I’d think I was crying because I fell off my pogo-stick again, but she’d help me realize I was acting out because I carry the burden of my great-grandfather who suffered through The Depression or something. I love therapy.

I am blessed to have my mom as a role model. She went back to school to get her psychology degree while we were growing up. In a time and place where she was expected to be a stay-at-home mom, my mother decided to get her Masters and begin a fulfilling career (not that raising me wasn’t fulfilling enough). It’s amazing to see more and more women become entrepreneurs and embody positions of power. However, we still need a steady number of housewives so that we don’t lose Bravo.

Seeing the way my mom runs her business and has evolved into a highly-respected psychologist has been incredible—especially because I have the best therapists in the city at my fingertips. I only wish she’d gone into a slightly less holistic field. I can’t tell you how many rocks and shells I’ve received as gifts that have a “spiritual meaning.” I appreciate the effort Cheryl, but I’d rather have a scarf, not this stone from your Healing Garden.

Regardless of current political outcomes, women cannot back down and need to be heard. Don’t let insecure, frat boys scare you from sharing your truth. Who knew Taylor Swift was capable of more than making us cringe at award shows? Ever since T-Swizzle got candid about her opposition to sexist candidates, voting registration rose by 65,000—ironically the same value of assets Bart O’Kavanaugh claims to have. Taylor Swift, a female, has a net worth of $280 million. Just saying.

Unfortunately, Trump is now only 75% a Swiftie, so I doubt he’ll be attending her Reputation Tour. Maybe he can use that time to hit happy hour with the Pope. They can discuss how much they love rape but hate abortion. Always nice to find common ground with a new friend. Tragic.

 

 

 

Mercury is Not in Retrograde

This has been an all-around weird week. I don’t know what it is, but something is off, so much so that I even googled if Mercury was in Retrograde, and I don’t even know WTF that means. And it’s not.

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Maybe it’s because I pre-gamed my Orange Theory class last night and got a minor concussion, or maybe it’s that Donald Trump finally texted me back, but I have not been able to think straight. For example, my dad just called and asked if I keep up with “The Moth.” I got super excited and was like, “OMG yes the memes with the lamps?!” There was a long, uncomfortable pause, and then he told me “The Moth” is actually an NPR segment, not a platform for the top moth memes in the country. He then carried on being a disappointed father. JK (I think)

Like most basic b*tches, my Lululemons and I went to Starbucks this morning for a cold brew. I was feeling wild, so I asked the cashier to throw in a spinach feta rap as well. She came back empty-handed and was like, “We only have one left”, and so I was like “Ok b*tch, hand it over.” As she rang it up, she looked me dead in the eyes and goes, “Are you sure you wanna do that?” and I’m just standing there panicking like yes, keep it down. I’m usually more alert but I fell for the trap when she asked for my name. Once they were done sautéing and flambéing my wrap in their luxury microwave, this girl has the nerve to yell, “Last spinach-feta wrap for ALI. Last one, for Ali!” and then literally hand-delivers it to me. I could feel the death stares from all surrounding basic b*tches in identical Lululemons. They practically shamed me out of my local Starbucks. Now I know how it feels to be Ted Cruz at a diner.

I’m also just realizing that this post is more basic than tragic, but, I’m too concussed and hungover from gluten-free pumpkin beer to care. F*ck. Not helping my case. Anyway, I hope everyone has a good weekend, except for Colin Kaepernick. Nothing political, I just hate his face.

Casamigos On The Ice

By: Ali Benz

Reality star Brett Kavanaugh made it very clear that he likes beer. Boys and girls like beer. V cool revelation. I, however, only drink Casamigos. I could go on about its vanilla undertones and sh*t, but seriously, you’ve got to try this tequila. Life-changing.

If you didn’t blow all of your summer money on Juul pods and sparkling seltzer, chances are you’re back on your bullsh*t. With this cold weather approaching, we are all gearing up in our best liquor blankets. No coat-check necessary.

As I made my triumphant return to nightlife, strictly for investigative journalism purposes, I grew extremely disappointed. Finding: people are still ordering bottles of Vodka to the table. I don’t care that your Tito’s is gluten-free, Sebastían, I want some f*cking Tequila. More specifically: Casamigos.

When I asked if any good alcohol would be coming, this uncultured swine of a bottle girl offered me a shot of Patrón. Tragic. I mean, did I take it? Yeah—there are sober children in Africa. I’m not a monster. But it was awful. My palette is clearly way too refined.

At least it wasn’t Vodka. Tequila comes from the agave plant and is way better for you according to, like, science…and Pitbull. Dalé.

If only Casamigos knew how much (of other people’s) money I’ve spent on their products. Maybe then they wouldn’t have left me on read when I slid in the DM. Over it.

Anyway, if you don’t idolize Mr. 305 the way I do, then maybe you should know that this tequila was founded/blessed by silver-fox George Clooney himself. So, if you’re having trouble stomaching silver-sex-offender Kavanaugh this week, grab yourself a bottle of Georgie’s Casamigos, and try to black-out the way poor little Brettski never could.

Your Smartphone is a Narc

By: Ali Benz

I’ve never used a dating app before. It’s not that I’m against it, it’s just that my sister was cat-fished by a man with adult braces and I’m traumatized. The digital age is creepy.

After losing my phone in the Brooklyn Mirage, a place to go to when you want to leave Manhattan just to see a bunch of people from Manhattan, I realized just how useless people are sans mobile. You can’t split an Uber, postmate a churro, text your mom that you’re alive, pretend to venmo someone, cat-fish my siblings, nothing!

But, don’t be mistaken. These apps are not your friends. They are narcs and Snapchat is Public Enemy No. 1. Sure, you can try to sneak around with that guy you swore you were over, but Snapchat will literally expose you on a map—because this app was clearly built on the premise of love and trust and their mission statement definitely wasn’t “Send Nudes.” Right. You can say it’s a glitch, but your Bitmojis are literally laying together half-naked on a towel. Evan Spiegel is a savage.

Location services are sketchy AF. I don’t get why my ‘Spanish Word of the Day’ app needs to be stalking me 24/7, but, also, I don’t know why I have a ‘Spanish Word of the Day’ app. I do, however, understand how tracking is necessary for ride-share services. How else would I send my broke ex home in an Uber pool? Tragic.

The only downloads I want on my phone are my Starbucks app, since it’s linked to my dad’s credit card, and my UV app, so I don’t waste time outside if the rays are weak AF. I might just follow in my grandma’s footsteps and revive the old LG flip. I don’t know what kind of secret operations she’s running out of Boca Raton, Florida, but as long as I keep getting eighty dollars cash in a singing card on my birthday, we’re good.